


swimsuit season

by allapplesfall



Series: nuclear family disarmament [5]
Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Day At The Beach, Dialogue Heavy, Families of Choice, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Shopping, in the fantasy high universe tony hawk is an aarakocra this does become relevant, so many bad jokes!!, some weird feelings about bodies and clothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allapplesfall/pseuds/allapplesfall
Summary: The Mordred Manor gang invite the rest of the Bad Kids on their trip to the beach to celebrate the last heat wave of the summer. Before they go, Riz, Kristen, and Adaine hit up fantasy Target to do some swimsuit shopping. Riz feels...weird about it. His friends make it better.or: a beach day fic that's 80% shenanigans and 20% friends being there for each other, and only 30% of it actually happens at the beach. originally thought up for day 2 of the d20 alphabet challenge: "beach"
Relationships: Adaine Abernant & Kristen Applebees, Adaine Abernant & Riz Gukgak, Kristen Applebees & Riz Gukgak, The Bad Kids & The Bad Kids (Dimension 20)
Series: nuclear family disarmament [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122017
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46
Collections: Dimension 20 Alphabet 2021





	swimsuit season

**Author's Note:**

> me: i don't relate that much to riz  
> me, remembering that i literally wore a newsboy cap to school for most of 6th grade: fuck
> 
> tw for people judging riz when he's in the girls' section

“Do you, um, do you know anything about property deeds?”

Adaine finished copying a line into her spellbook in her tight, neat script. She glanced up. “Property deeds? Not especially. I mean, give me some time and I could…?”

Riz shook his head. “No, don’t worry about it. I’m gonna get there, I just need to keep at it.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Let me know.”

The two of them sat in the courtyard at Aguefort, various sheaves of paper spread out on a picnic table. They’d settled onto the warm wooden benches after their last classes. Only a couple other students meandered around them now; the second dismissal bell had rung at least half an hour ago. Most of the time had been spent in companionable quiet.

They’d often passed afternoons like this last year, after spring break. With the Hangvan at his disposal, Gorgug had taken to driving them all home after school, but he and Fabian had bloodrush practice until five. So Riz and Adaine had waited by doing what they did best: breaking out their projects and putting their noses to the grindstone. This year, especially in the comforting heat of early August, they’d been quick to continue the tradition.

Riz yawned, stretching his left hand and his tail to their full extension, before curling back over his investigation notes. _Grantor. Grantee._ He circled, _Quitclaim deed?_ and added, _Title defects?_ Absentmindedly, he gnawed on the back of his pen, leaving deep toothmarks in the metal. Without looking away from her books, Adaine reached out and offered him her bag of crackers.

He took a handful. As he went back to work, he crunched on them, alternating each cracker with each side of his mouth as he chewed.

He got through two more suspicious properties before a backpack dropped beside him on the asphalt. “Hey, guys!”

He looked up. Kristen stood in front of him, grin on her face. The sunlight caught her curls and spun strands of red hair into gold.

“Oh, hey,” he said.

Adaine waved, attention still fixed on her spell. She must have been nearly done with it—she had the little crease between her brows that meant she’d entered the home stretch.

Kristen climbed to sit onto Riz’s side of the table and settled her feet on the bench next to him. The table shook at her less-than-graceful execution.

“Kristen,” Adaine reproached, fixing a smudged letter.

“Sorry, sorry.”

Riz scooted to make room. “What’s, uh, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. I was just talking to Torek about some GSA events we might want to hold this semester. Maybe getting school funding for some stuff we could do, you know? It’s just weird without Ragh, and there are these freshmen who just joined—which is awesome, totally—but at the meetings they kind of take up all the space? And I get it, when you’re just coming out it’s like ahh, all you can talk about, so many corny jokes–”

“You’ll be getting out of that stage when, exactly?”

Kristen rolled her eyes at Adaine. “Like, I’m not saying I haven’t been there, it just makes it hard to get any actual planning done.”

Riz smiled, then tried to hide it with a cough into his elbow. “You’re– You’re frustrated with people getting distracted during planning time?”

“Okay, okay! I get it. This is all karma, or whatever.” She paused and frowned. “Cass? Do we believe in karma?”

Her glowing pinky brightened and her eyes flashed to show galaxies spinning within them. In a blink, her pupils returned to their usual green.

“Not sure,” she reported. “Duh. Anyway, what’re you guys up to?”

“Some guy’s been buying up vacant properties and selling them as new housing with some serious issues and no warrantees. My client got pretty badly hurt when part of his ceiling, like, caved in.”

“Sounds like a dirtbag.”

Riz nodded maybe more times than necessary. “ _Total_ dirtbag.”

“Any leads?”

“A couple. I have more files in my office that should help.”

“Cool.”

“And _I’m_ trying to do my homework,” Adaine said. “Key word, trying.”

Kristen looked skeptical. “Homework? It’s Friday. It’s the weekend, dude.”

“And we’re going away all weekend, so.”

“Hey, that’s right!” Kristen grinned. “I totally forgot, holy shit.” 

Riz blinked. He’d also forgotten their plans. The Mordred Manor gang had invited him, Fabian, and Gorgug to the beach for the three-day weekend to celebrate the last heat wave of the summer.

“Damn, I need to ask Torek if she can teach me to skate the weekend after next instead.”

Adaine gave Kristen a fond, exasperated smile, flipping her book closed. Evidently, she’d either finished, or gotten close enough to not mind recognizing a lost cause. “You? Skateboarding?”

“Yeah?”

“Baby girl, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“How come?”

Riz winced. “Yesterday, you tripped on nothing and fell down half a flight of stairs.”

“On Monday, you tried to catch a bag of cookies Ragh threw at you and ended up spilling a gallon of milk on the floor.”

“Last week, you, um, gave yourself a black eye when you tried to climb on the couch.”

Kristen leaned forward and covered her smile with a hand. After a moment fighting to regain composure, she said, “Okay, so that’s…true. But listen, get this. When you skateboard, they give you like a helmet, kneepads, elbow-pads. Hip pads, even. The whole deal.”

Adaine said, “Do you think they could swaddle you in bubble wrap?”

“You know what, for you, I’ll ask.”

“Oh, you spoil me.”

They grinned at each other.

“Anyway,” Kristen said. “You excited for the beach, Riz?”

“Uh, I guess. I mean, yeah, of course. For sure.”

Adaine looked at him, head tipped to one side. “You positive?”

He nodded.

Kristen leaned back on her hands. “I was worried at first because I don’t have a swimsuit of my own, but I texted Tracker and she said I can borrow a pair of her boardshorts again. I’ll just throw a sports bra on top.”

Adaine poked Kristen’s pasty, freckled forearm. “Dude, you’re gonna get burnt to a crisp.”

“Ooh.” Kristen glanced up at the sun. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You know, I don’t actually think I have swimmers either?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, no, we never replaced them after the whole sprinkler fiasco.”

Kristen turned to Riz. “How about you?”

He fidgeted with his pen. “Oh, uh, I was just gonna go in this.”

“In that?”

He looked down at his usual slacks, button-down, and vest combination. He knew it was a silly thing to wear to the beach—he was hot in it right now, and it wasn’t nearly as warm as it was meant to get tomorrow. Sand would get folds and itch and it would make him want to tear his skin off, and the water would be a no-go. But the alternative—having nothing to shield his arms and legs from the outside world—made his insides squirm into knots.

“I, uh–” He took a breath. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Kristen announced, climbing down off the table. “It’s decided. We’re going to the mall and doing some shopping.”

“Sorry, who decided?”

“Adaine….”

“Yeah, sure,” Adaine said, in a tone that revealed her teasing. “We can text the jocks and catch the bus instead. We won’t have to share the van with their smelly gym bags, so that’s a win.”

Kristen grinned. “Sweet. Riz? You in?”

“Uh…” His hands felt sweaty and hot. Heat crept up his neck. He had to go try on _swimsuits?_ Swimsuits, which were either skin-tight and clingy or else left his whole chest exposed? Not that he minded revealing his tattoos. He didn’t regret them: they were past clues, evidence of a case well closed. But the idea of revealing his _skin_ made him feel exposed and nauseous and even smaller than usual.

But they were his friends, and they were inviting him to hang out with them, and what could he say to refuse?

Adaine must have picked up on his hesitation, because she met his eyes. “You won’t have to try on anything you’re not comfortable in, promise.”

“Of course I’m in,” he said, trying not to betray how much better that made him feel. “Duh. Do you, uh, know where Fig is? Should we invite her?”

“It’s her daddy-daughter day with Gorthalax,” said Adaine. “She’s probably raising hell in Hell as we speak.”

“Oh, right, cool.”

“Come on, pack up your shit,” Kristen said. She had her crystal out. “The next bus is in four minutes. We can make it if we book it.”

-

A piggy-back ride, a sprint, and a giggly bus trip later, they ended up in fantasy Target, in the large summer section. Most of the racks had been marked with _clearance_ and _sale_ announcements—the store clearly wanted to empty the shelves for their new shipments of fall fashion.

Kristen immediately gravitated towards the racks of boys’ swim trunks. “Dude, look at all the patterns!” she called. “This is awesome!” She held up a pair splattered with neon dinosaurs wearing pool floaties. “Name something better than this. You can’t.”

Riz and Adaine shared an amused look.

Kristen pointed to a pair printed with improbably colored pineapples and another with slices of pizza. “Adaine, we could match.”

“No,” Adaine said, her nose and eyes crinkling like they did when she suppressed a smile. “For multiple reasons.”

“You’re missing out.”

“I’ll live,” Adaine promised. To Riz, she said, “Do you have an idea what you’d like?”

“Uh, we can shop for you first,” he said. He didn’t mind the boardshorts—though he’d probably go for one of the more tasteful prints, like the superhero ones—but thinking about the top half of the outfit still made his chest all tight.

“Okay,” she said. She glanced over to the girls’ section and made a face at the hot pink bikinis. “All power to people who like that look, but can you help me find something that…covers a little more?”

“Sure,” Riz agreed, thrilled to have been given a mission. “Any color you like, or….”

“I dunno, just nothing too flashy?”

“Not flashy, got it. Gukgak Investigations, on the case.”

“Nerd squad, unite.”

“Nerd squad,” he agreed, and they split up.

A lot of the two-pieces on the rack were more revealing than he thought she’d want. He worked his way methodically down the line, pausing every time a piece showed promise. Most he rejected—for bedazzled straps or skimpy panties or padded cups, and any other design element he knew would have Adaine dreaming of sinking into the ground. About halfway through the row, a tween human girl and her mother crossed his path. They shot him matching disgusted looks.

“What?” he said, on instinct. Then, realizing that they saw him as a teenage boy combing through women’s swimsuits, he felt his face get hot. His tie seemed to tighten around his neck. “This is–This is _not_ what it looks like–” and then he paused, because what did they think it looked like?

What if they weren’t glaring at him because they thought he was a creeper, but because they though he was shopping for himself and disapproved of that? Clothes didn’t have gender and it was closed-minded of them to judge someone else’s expression. _He_ wouldn’t wear any of this, not in a million years, but Ragh wore dresses sometimes! Would they glare at Ragh if they saw him shopping? That wasn’t cool!

“I mean, maybe it is what you think!” he said. “And that would be okay! But I’m– I’m actually just shopping for my– Adaine!” He looked around. “See, she’s– Adaine!”

“Riz?” Adaine said, sounding concerned. She appeared at the end of his aisle. “Everything okay?”

“Do you think you would like this one?” With a slightly manic fervor, he held one of the few swimsuits he’d slung over his arm aloft. “It has, uh, zippers.”

Adaine’s eyes tracked from him to the space behind him where the mother and daughter were. “It’s nice, yes,” she said slowly. “Thanks for helping me look.”

He craned his head behind him to check their facial expressions. They’d turned away.

“Why don’t you come over where I am?” Adaine suggested. “I found some that seem to be a bit more my style.”

He nodded fervently and allowed her to lead him away.

Once they were out of earshot, she looked down at him. “Are you okay?”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“You sure? Were they being racist? Because honestly, I’m not above using Adaine’s Furious Fist to deal with anyone giving you trouble.”

“No, I mean– What? Adaine, that would _kill_ them.”

She shrugged. “Probably.”

“I hadn’t even thought about the racist thing. They probably were, honestly. I just think they were more caught up in the gender stuff.”

“Ugh,” she said. “I hate people. Can our next mission be taking on corporations’ sexist separation of clothing by gender?”

“I mean, like, I get it, there probably _are_ creepy guys who do weird stuff where young girls shop. I just– The idea that–”

She frowned. “There are creepy guys everywhere. They’re not more likely to be minding their own business and shopping for bikinis than they are to be hanging out in the parking lot. You’re allowed to shop where you want, Riz. That’d never make you a perv.”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I know. It’s just _dumb_ that they made me feel like that. Like, I survived Hell. I’m a licensed private eye with _connections_. I shouldn’t care, right? It’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. Seriously, I get freaked out about what other people think all the time. That doesn’t make me dumb, does it?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then this is the pot telling the kettle to believe me and my many, many hours of therapy. It’s not dumb. It’s shitty that they made you feel like that, especially when you were just helping me.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Want me to grab Kristen and we can go?”

Giving into the impulse to flee seemed worse, somehow. He wanted to just keep goofing off with his friends. “No, I’m good. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I wasn’t kidding about the Furious Fist. It’s not too late.”

He forced a chuckle. “Thanks, but it’s seriously okay. Let’s, uh, find you a swimsuit.”

“Okay.” She smiled, briefly settling a hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

Between the two of them, they managed to track down four swimsuits Adaine liked enough to try on. Kristen joined them as they were meticulously rehanging every other item in its proper place, hugging a large stack of swim trunks to her chest.

“Did you take one of each?” Riz asked.

“No,” Kristen said, with the defensiveness more owed to someone not struggling to hold an inventory’s worth of swimwear. “Don’t be crazy. Just like, maybe half.”

He grinned.

“Are you gonna try _all_ of those on?” Adaine asked.

“I gotta,” Kristen confirmed. “There’s a lot to consider—length, pattern, fit around the thighs, how dykey it makes me look. It’s a hard decision.”

Adaine’s lips twitched. “Fine, fine. Let’s go to the dressing room now, then, so you can finish before they close.”

“They’re not gonna _close–_ ”

Riz pretended to check his watch. “They might.”

“Oh–” She tried to kick him playfully, forgot to counterbalance her carrying load, and almost went stumbling headfirst into a mannequin. Only Riz’s quick intervention saved her from toppling the catastrophic first domino in a humanoid-shaped set.

“ _Kristen,_ ” he said.

Adaine giggled. “You deserved that.”

“What, almost braining myself on a bikini dummy?”

“Yeah.”

“ _Wow_ , Adaine. Way to blame the victim.”

“If I did that, I would’ve been blaming Riz.”

Kristen laughed. “Fair, fair. Riz _is_ our little angel.”

He bared his teeth at her, feigning malice.

“Aw,” she crooned, “there he is.”

Eventually, they did make it to the changing rooms. The attendant, a portly older woman who looked years too tired to tolerate Kristen’s shenanigans, insisted that she limit herself to ten pairs of trunks per trip into the changing room. The rest would stay in a stack on the couch outside, along with both of their backpacks.

That was where Riz stayed, too, as the girls went in to try on their loot.

He set his briefcase on his lap and pulled out his crystal. He had a couple texts from his mom, asking if he would be home for dinner and if she’d get to see him before they all left. He replied that he was planning on coming home, just not totally sure of the timing yet. She _thumbs up_ reacted. That settled, he pulled out his notebook and took the opportunity to review the facts of his current case.

Adaine emerged first, still wearing a dark blue swim romper. She had her arms crossed over her chest. “What do you think?” she asked.

He blinked at her. She wanted _his_ opinion? “Oh. It– It, uh, looks great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, with more certainty. It did look good, especially in the size ‘tall’ they’d found—the shorts fell down to her mid-thigh and the waistline fit at the right place. The only not Adaine-ish part of the outfit was that she didn’t have her jean jacket thrown over it or tied at the hip. “Is that your favorite one?”

“I think so. The other costumes don’t make me feel as comfortable.”

“Then you should get it, it looks good.”

“Best seller,” the attendant commented, flat expression unchanging.

Adaine made the face of someone who would be blushing, if that were something her skin did. “Okay, this is the one, then. I’ll be right back.”

While she went to put her clothes on, Kristen came out with her first stack.

“Any luck?” Riz asked.

“Eh, maybe,” she said. She scrubbed her knuckles affectionately through his curls. “You okay out here?”

He swatted at her hand like he did his mom’s when she used to fuss. “I’m– stop. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

She eyed him for a second. He understood her scrutiny—in the past, their shopping trips had involved the two of them downing six cups of coffee from the in-store fantasy Starbucks before wreaking chaos together, scandalizing middle-aged suburbanites and risking lifetime bans for inane things like carrying firearms and playing Ricky Martin over the intercom. This trip, he’d let the burden of enthusiasm fall solely on her (admittedly broad) shoulders.

“If you say so,” she said, and swapped one pile of trunks for the next.

“Alright,” Adaine said, once she’d given her other options over to the attendant. She fixed him with a look. “You don’t have to, but Kristen’s gonna be a while. I think we should have a look around for something for you.”

He sighed. “Okay.”

“Is there a reason you don’t want to?”

“It’s, uh.” He didn’t know how to say it. How to put it into words. He didn’t even know what it _was_ , so how was he supposed to explain it? “I just, I like wearing my suits, you know? I’m the briefcase kid. The briefcase kid wears a button-down shirt and a vest and pants. Sometimes a jacket over it. Shorts, if it’s really, really hot.”

Adaine sat next to him so their considerable height difference wasn’t so pronounced. She kept her voice gentle, non-judgmental, as she said, “You do wear other things sometimes.”

It was true. He wore sweaters, occasionally, with button-up shirts underneath. At bloodrush games, one of the boys would usually lend him one of their jackets, mostly because he looked cute and small in it. At impromptu Manor sleepovers, he wore large t-shirts borrowed from one of the others as pyjamas.

Shit, he’d even borrowed a pair of Fig’s old cheer shorts to go swimming bare-chested in Fabian’s pool.

And his whole ‘briefcase kid’ defense had holes in it, too. He’d stopped wearing his newsboy cap as much since spring break, because his habitual clothing wasn’t a compulsion, he just found the regularity soothing. He’d gone through phases all his life (his first-grade rubber bracelet collection, his fourth-grade light-up sneakers, his sixth-grade bowties–) and at a certain point, it became time for him to explore the next one.

But that was _different_. That was gradual change, or took place somewhere private, protected, or else just involved adding on another layer of clothing. Swimsuits—swimsuits at the _beach—_ implied stripping layers away and broadcasting it in public.

As if she were reading his mind, Adaine said, “You haven’t got to wear a speedo, Riz. Come on, come with me.”

He let her draw him up by the hand, following as she found the ‘small’ section. She stopped in front of a rack of long-sleeved swim shirts. “How do you feel about rashies?”

He stared. Sure, he knew rash guards were a thing, like, logically, but he hadn’t owned one since he was really small. Goblins weren’t prone enough to sunburns to warrant the investment, not when a layer of sunscreen would do the trick—and not when his classic pool party pity-invite strategy used to be sitting in the shade and staying completely dry the whole time.

He reached out and touched one. It was a weird texture, but not as bad as his mind had made it out to be. Surprisingly hopeful, he scanned the options.

The one he picked out was black, with a ring of white at the collar. It had wider sleeves than some of the others, enough that he could tell they wouldn’t be skin-tight to his arms. Where a shirt pocket would be, it had a small green sea turtle.

“This– This could be good,” he said.

Adaine nodded, clearly chuffed with herself. “I like it,” she said. “Does it come with matching trunks?”

He looked to the rack below, and lo-and-behold, it did—black trunks with peaceful minimalist sea turtles swimming around them.

“I think I’ll get the shirt,” he said. “I wanna look around the other trunks before I decide on these.”

“Go for it,” she said. “I’m gonna look for something else while you’re at it.”

He flicked through the trunks available, a less varied selection than the medium sizes Kristen had ransacked. He wasn’t expecting anything awesome—stores tended to carry small clothing in patterns that erred on the side of maximum palatability, to offset their limited stock. That was why his mouth dropped open and he clapped his hands together over and over when he found them.

“Adaine,” he hissed, when he was done clapping. “ _Adaine!”_

She was back at his side in an instant. “What?”

“Look at these!” He grabbed the trunks off the rack and held them as high as he could.

Her mouth fell open in incredulous glee. “Riz, those are _perfect_.”

He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. The shorts featured dozens of shrimp, happily swimming around on a blue background.

“New opinion—this beach trip could be good.”

She smiled. “I’m so glad. Want to see something else cool? Not as cool, admittedly, but it’s pretty hard to top that.”

“ _Yes_ , show me.”

It took him a minute to make sense of what she passed him. It looked like a vest. The material was clearly buoyant, though not too thick. It zipped up in the middle. The tag proclaimed it to be medium toddler size; in other words, it would fit him perfectly.

“I figured your vests kind of hug you, kind of how my denim jacket hugs me. So I thought you might like one you can take in the water with you.”

Understanding hit him all at once, and Riz had to swallow quickly to stop himself from happy vomiting all over their new finds. This was good. This was really, really good, to the point where it buzzed through his chest and his arms and his head and he was still bouncing up and down on his feet, grinning like a lunatic. After a beat, maybe two, he launched himself at Adaine, and koala bear-ed onto her front with a spider-monkey’s grip.

She grunted and took a step back with the impact. After regaining her footing, she hugged him back, tight and strong and _wow,_ Riz loved his friends.

-

They met Kristen back at the changing rooms, where she’d hooked a leg over the arm of the couch and was toying with the ripping seam of the plastic cushion with one hand and scrolling through her crystal with the other. She looked up at their approach and smiled. “Riz, you found something!”

He hefted his new acquisitions like trophies.

“No way! Shrimp party!”

Riz and Adaine did the crab dance in response, grinning broadly.

Kristen leaned forward and made appropriately curious inquiries into the other two pieces.

“What’d you decide on?” Adaine asked her, after Riz had finished his show-and-tell.

Kristen’s eyes lit up. “I couldn’t pick,” she admitted. “So I’m getting two.”

“Did you find a swim shirt to put on top, too?”

Kristen paused and frowned. “No?”

“Kristen, that’s what you needed to get, remember? If all you needed was trunks, you could’ve borrowed Tracker’s.”

“Shit,” she said. “Okay, well I’m kind of bored of shopping, so I think I’ll wear a sports bra and just slather on the sunscreen and heal myself if I need to.”

Adaine crinkled her nose, exasperated but unsurprised.

Riz, not wanting to let the reality check dash Kristen’s excitement when his was still in full bloom, asked, “So which trunks did you pick?”

Excitement successfully rekindled, Kristen held her selections out. “These ones are tie-dye, because why mess with a good thing–” the trunks were, in fact, a faux tie-dye teal and green combination– “and these ones have sharks that are surfing.” And, indeed, these pictured multicolored sharks living it up on multicolored surfboards. “Isn’t that the coolest thing? Sharks. On. Surfboards.”

Adaine raised her eyebrows. “Right, because nothing says beach fun like shorts decorated with an animal that could eat you, doing the thing that makes that animal most likely to eat you.”

“Okay, but if a shark eats me? While I’m wearing these? That’d be _legendary_. You can’t even argue.” She paused. “Should I take surf lessons?”

Riz shook his head. “I think you’d run into similar issues with skateboarding and surfing.”

“Whatever. When I turn into the next Tony Squawk, you’re gonna be sorry you ever doubted me.”

“Oh, yes,” Adaine said. “’ _When.’”_

-

“Z!”

Fig spun her head to look at him. “Where?”

“There,” Riz said, reaching across her to point out the window. “Zack’s Flapjacks.”

“Fuck yeah,” she cheered. She gave him a high-five. “We’re done!”

“Thank God,” muttered Aelwyn, her words somehow audible even though she sat on the backmost bench of the van.

“Good job, gang,” said Jawbone. “You guys did that real fast.”

“It was mostly Riz,” Fig said. “He’s great at this stuff.”

“Makes sense. Eagle-eyed detective, huh?”

Riz felt pride swell at his chest at Jawbone’s approval, whatever the minor reason. He scratched the back of his head. “Uh, team effort,” he said.

They’d spent the last two hours of the drive keeping themselves entertained with various games. The most recent, and most time-consuming one, had involved searching for words on billboards on buildings that started with each letter of the alphabet, in order.

“What should we play next?” Fig asked. “I went to the zoo and I saw?”

Static crackled from the backseat. Riz craned his neck to see over the seat, past Kristen snoozing against Gorgug’s shoulder, to see Aelwyn looking dangerously sparkly in her spot between Ragh and Zayn.

“Love the energy, kid,” Lydia said from the passenger seat. “But I’m feeling like it’s time for some music. That cool?”

“Oh, totally,” said Fig. “Hell yeah.”

The magical charge around Aelwyn started to fade. She caught Riz watching and widened her eyes, as if to say, _something for you?_

Cowed, he dropped back to his seat, facing forward.

“Music?” Zaphriel asked, his voice as chill as ever. “That sounds awesome, Ms. Barkrock. What are we feeling?”

“How about some of that newer R&B? Just not loud enough to wake up Kris.”

“Some R&B, coming right up. Sit right back and relax. Time to Half Moon Bay is about two more hours.”

“Is Fabian still behind us?” Riz asked.

“He is! Still cruising along on that awesome bike. I’ll let you know if that changes, dude, I promise.” 

“Thanks.”

“Of course, man.”

The instrumentals of a song Riz assumed counted as R&B filled the van. He was surprised by how chill it was—he didn’t know a lot about music, but he knew Lydia shared Fig and Gorgug’s appreciation for metal and punk, and he’d heard her listening to Ragh’s rap-heavy game hype playlist while she cooked. But it seemed to suit the vibe, defusing Aelwyn and making Fig tip her head to listen to the probably unfamiliar tune, so he tried not to be upset about not having any more games to keep his mind busy.

He turned to his other side, to look at Adaine. She’d been unusually quiet; earlier, he’d written it off as morning drowsiness, but it was now well past ten. She sat with Boggy in her lap. She stared down at him, rubbing small circles onto his cool skin. Her bottom lip was trapped beneath her teeth.

“Adaine, you good?” he asked, as quietly as he could.

She glanced at him, surprised. “Yes, of course.”

He gave her a don’t-insult-my-investigator’s-license look.

She glanced around and subtly messaged him instead of answering aloud. _I’m just anxious. It’s okay._

_Anxious about what?_

She looked away, out the window. _I haven’t been in the ocean since Spring Break._

He frowned, thinking back. Was she anxious about the stuff that happened on Leviathan? But no, she’d _been_ to Leviathan since, to visit Ayda and Compass Points. It took his memory a moment to piece together her description of her time in the nightmare forest—her past self, the cliff, and the carnival under the sea.

 _And I– I know it’s different. I’m not planning on doing any cliff jumping, for one thing, and I’ve prepared water breathing, and you guys will all be there. But my nervous system won’t get the memo. It’s– It’s frustrating. And annoying_. _I’m very annoyed._

 _That makes sense,_ he thought back. _I still have nightmares about, like, Kalina and stuff._ _If we were spending the weekend at a black cat shelter, I’d probably be worked up about it._

She shrugged. Boggy made a low, ribbiting noise in the back of his throat.

 _You don’t have to go in, if you don’t want to. We can hang out on the sand. That’s cool, you know?_

_But I_ want _to go in. I want to._ Her fingers tightened against the fabric of her jeans. _Also, stop looking at me, or Fig will realize we’re talking without her._

Obediently, he looked forward, at the stretch of freeway he could see between Jawbone and Lydia. _Okay, well if we get there and you kinda change your mind, that’s fine. And I can, like, walk into the water with you, if that would help._

She paused, took a breath. _Yeah. Yeah, you’re right, okay. Thanks, Riz._

 _Sure_.

_Wanna play a game? In our heads, so my sister doesn’t revert to her old habits and blow us all up?_

He grinned. _Something fun and nerdy the others would make fun of, even though it’s totally cool and engaging?_

He glanced at her in time to see the corner of her mouth curl up. _Perfect._

-

“Alright, looks like we made it, gang,” Jawbone said. He looked back with a grin. “Thanks for bearing with us.”

“Time for the _beach_ ,” Fig whooped, sliding open the door to the van and jumping out onto the sunbaked asphalt.

They’d stopped by their Fairbnb—a large house that Riz couldn’t quite believe was someone’s _summer home_ —to regroup with Sandra Lynn and Fabian, who’d traveled by way Baxter and the Hangman, and to unload the car and eat some sandwiches. But everyone had been underwhelmed by the place’s pastel throw pillows and seaside-themed décor. They’d driven all this way, and their itch to see the _actual_ ocean had them impatient and buzzing with anticipation. Sensing that soon the excitement would turn to crankiness, Jawbone had told everyone to change into their swimsuits so they could head on out.

Riz hopped down from the van close on Fig’s heels. He liked the Hangvan fine, but even the ten-minute drive to the beach had felt eternal after their four-hour trip. He stretched his arms and legs to remind them what it felt like to be upright again.

As the rest of them piled out and squinted in the bright sunlight, Ragh headed to the back of the van and popped open the boot. He lifted the pieces for wheelchair from the backseat, a specially modified beach chair that the Thistlesprings had whipped up when the idea of the weekend getaway had been floated. It had three fat, inflatable tires that Gorgug helped him fit onto the pieces of the low-riding frame.

“Look at that, The Ball,” Fabian said, arms outstretched. He faced the sand, bright eyes fixed on the dark blue water beyond it. He took a deep, dramatic inhale. “Can you smell it?”

Riz sniffed. He mostly smelled the thick fumes of blacktop, but the breeze picked a little bit of salt and seaweed. He nodded enthusiastically. “Totally,” he said. “So cool.”

Fabian grinned at him, his whole body animated like it got when he was excited. “And I don’t like it because Papa liked it, I like it because _I_ like it. Me.”

“Heck yeah.” He thought of his dad and his missions and his love for puzzles that had grown where his desperate lack of answers used to be. “We’re, like– we’re our own people, and we’re at the beach!”

“We’re our own people and _we’re at the beach!_ ”

Aelwyn made a weird sound at the back of her throat, but by the time Riz looked at her, she’d turned away.

Since the seats of the van were too elevated for a board, Ragh was giving Lydia a hand with her transfer. He gave her a light punch on the arm when he finished, and she knuckled him on the head in gratitude before he straightened back up.

Absentmindedly, Riz wondered if their shared love of noogies was what made Lydia and Kristen get along so well.

“Okay, we got more things to unload, guys!” Jawbone stood by the open boot, a cooler in his hand and sunnies pushed up to his forehead. His white singlet revealed his thickly furred chest. “How about everybody grabs their towel and one other thing.”

Riz darted in before everyone crowded around, nabbing his towel and the big bottle of sunscreen. Kristen, Gorgug, and Fabian shouldered the beach chairs, while Adaine hefted the bag of sand toys. Fig grabbed her waterproof speaker. Aelwyn paused, waiting for Sandra Lynn to step in, but Sandra Lynn gave her a look that wasn’t unkind, but was firm. Aelwyn took the mesh bag of other stuff—a bloodrush ball, a frisbee, and a kite, among other things—and tucked it under her arm.

“You could be an all-sports camp counselor,” Kristen told her.

“Thank you,” Aelwyn replied. “I’d rather be dead.”

Evidently tired of waiting, Fig yelled, “Last one to the water is a rotten egg!” and started to run.

“No fair!” Fabian cried, trying to swing his chair over his back. “You’re– You’re just carrying a _speaker_ , of _course_ you’re going to–”

Riz barely had time to process hands grabbing onto his vest before the air in front of him folded and gaped, sucking him in and swallowing him. The spell spat him out on the beach proper, ankle-deep in lukewarm, lapping waves. He swallowed hard to keep down his recently eaten sandwiches.

“We beat you!” called the person beside him, whose hands still lingered on his shoulders. Adaine. “Ha! We beat you!”

Four figures scrambled over the dunes, kicking up sand. Fig’s horned head shot up at Adaine’s shout—her mouth opened in recognition before she shimmered like the wavy heat haze and disappeared. She reappeared five feet from them, foamy water splashing around her calves.

Gorgug led the sprint of the others. Behind him, Kristen had slowed to a walk, evidently throwing in the towel. Fabian fought valiantly on, though, his towel streaming behind him like his battle sheet.

“ _Don’t_ become friends with spellcasters,” he shouted. “All they do is–” he paused to suck in breath, feet sliding on an abrupt downhill– “ _cheat_ and _teleport_ –”

“ _You’re_ a spellcaster,” Adaine taunted. “Get better at dancing, maybe.”

Fig cackled.

Once Gorgug and Fabian joined them, wetting just the bottoms of their boardshorts in the waves, they realized they would have to walk back up past the tidemark to leave their stuff. Before they left the water, Riz caught Adaine’s arm and tugged.

“Is this, uh, is this okay for you?”

Adaine blinked, like the competition had rubbed out her earlier fears and she only just now registered the sea crashing and shushing around them. She nodded, a little stiffly. She reached into the pocket of her romper and pulled out a small straw. She blew into it, murmuring words of incantation, gaze fixed on the rest of the group. Riz felt his chest pulse.

“There,” she said. “I had to leave out all the grown-ups, but….”

“Water breathing?”

She nodded.

“Smart,” he said, and meant it. He wouldn’t admit it if anyone asked, but he’d been calculating their odds in a water-based encounter ever since they hit the coast. Preventing drowning went a long way.

Gorgug looked back from where he’d lagged behind Fabian, forehead creased. “Are, uh, you guys coming?”

“Yeah, yes, we are,” Adaine said. “One second.”

Hesitantly, she stepped deeper into the surf. She bent down, face dipping into the water. She held it there for a while. Her shoulders rose and fell with purposefully measured inhales and exhales. When she straightened, rivulets of water ran down her neck and front. Her light hair darkened around her temples.

“Good?” Riz asked.

Adaine smiled. “Good.”

-

This, Riz thought, felt like a vacation from a movie.

Upbeat music blasted from Fig’s speaker. Hot yellow sand glimmered in the sun, stinging his feet when he dared to cross it too slowly. The blue ocean spread out to the edge of the horizon, distant sailboats bobbing along its back. Seagulls and pelicans cawed overhead. A steady breeze played against their skin, welcome in the blaze of afternoon heat.

Sandra Lynn and Jawbone both sunbathed, books open in their laps. Lydia sat in the shade of a multicolored umbrella with an amused grin, watching Ragh—who had greeted the first crab he saw with a bellowed “Your king has _returned!”—_ cajole Aelwyn into learning to throw a bloodrush ball. Further down, in wetter sand, Fig and Fabian had buried Kristen up to her neck. Every time Riz looked over, Kristen seemed to have new sand-sculpted genitals and boobs in increasingly unlikely places.

Riz himself crouched next to Adaine and Gorgug, making the best-designed sandcastle the beach had ever seen. Zayn, while unable to physically dig, helped out by suggesting creepy but cool aesthetic elements and casting create water to keep their building materials wet.

“Whoa,” Fig said, coming over to survey their architectural masterpiece. “This castle rocks!”

“Needs a few more ominous spikes,” said Zayn. “But it’s getting there.”

“I’m almost done with the moat,” Riz promised. “Then I can add more spikes.”

“It doesn’t need to be an evil castle, either, Zayn,” Adaine said. “Nobody’s heads need to end up on spikes.”

“I kind of don’t want that,” Gorgug agreed.

Fig grinned at Zayn. “Would be pretty sick, though.” A thought seemed to cross her mind. “Wait! I’ve got the perfect thing.” She hurried over to where Lydia sat and started rummaging through their bags.

Riz, Adaine, and Gorgug shared trepidatious smiles, eyes asking each other _do you know what she’s on about?_ and unanimously receiving _no, but we’re gonna find out._

“No explosives!” Adaine called. 

Sandra Lynn sat up. “Explosives?”

“They’re not explosives!”

Sandra Lynn fixed her with a look. “They better not be.”

“I wouldn’t mind some explosives,” Lydia mused. “Could be a hoot.”

Jawbone laughed. Sandra Lynn gave Lydia an exhausted look. “Please, don’t encourage her.”

“Geez, Mom, don’t worry. I don’t _need_ explosives to make things explode.”

“So, you see how that doesn’t really help your case, right? You do see that.”

Fig held up a small plastic bag. “It’s a bag of _gummy bears_.”

“Normal gummy bears?”

“Totally normal gummy bears.”

“In that case, go crazy,” Sandra Lynn said, and went back to her book.

Riz looked at Gorgug. “Gummy bears?”

Gorgug shrugged.

Fig hurried back over. At this point, Fabian had joined them too, drawn by the commotion.

“I found you some castle guards,” Fig announced, pulling open the packet. She pulled out the multicolored gummies and set them upright along the outer wall, spaced evenly. “They’re loyal and true sworn protectors of the realm.”

Adaine wrinkled her nose. “Ew, aren’t you gonna wanna eat them?”

“Who says I still can’t?”

“ _Fig_ ,” Fabian reprimanded, disgusted.

“I’d eat them,” Kristen said, appearing at Gorgug’s side. Her freckly face had flushed pink in the sun, and she was absolutely caked in sand from head-to-toe.

“Oof,” Gorgug said, wincing.

Fig positioned her last bear and looked up. “Oh my god,” she said, mouth covering a gleeful smile. “Applebees, you look amazing.”

“You look like smoked salmon,” Riz corrected.

“ _Panko-crusted_ smoked salmon,” Fabian said.

Kristen shrugged. “Sometimes life cooks you like a salmon, you know? And you just gotta go with it. Can I have a gummy bear?”

“Sure!” Fig plucked one off the corner and handed it out.

Adaine shook her head. “Kristen, don’t eat that, it’s got sand on it.”

“Fig gave me a dick moustache made out of sand. If you think I haven’t already eaten some today, then huh, sister, I have news for you.”

Gorgug smiled, amused and concerned at the same time. “A dick moustache?”

Fig pulled out her phone and showed him a picture. “D’you think Lola will let me make this the next album cover?”  
  
“That’s a bad album cover,” Fabian said. “Believe me, I enjoyed fucking with Kristen, but that’s a truly terrible album cover.”

“It’s avant-garde.”

“Avant– _No_ , it’s not.”

Kristen ate the gummy bear.

“Anyway,” Fabian said. “I’m bored of the sand. To the water!”

-

“Closer! Closer, Gorgug, closer!”

“Shove! Shove like you mean it!”

“I’m gonna eat you!”

“Yeah! The Ball’s gonna eat your face!”

The sea splashed around them, glittering in peaks. Riz sat atop Fabian’s shoulders, his teeth bared and arms outstretched, trying to fend off attacks from Adaine, perched on Kristen, and Fig, riding Gorgug.

Fabian spun back as Adaine tried to knock him off balance with her long-limbed reach. Taking advantage of Adaine’s distraction, Fig and Gorgug appeared behind them, and tried to shove her. Kristen stumbled, but maintained her footing.

“Sharks!” she called. “Sharks, to me!”

“No!” Adaine jabbed her in the side with her heel. “Just because you’re wearing shark print does not make sharks our allies!”

Gorgug tilted his head. “You sure? That sounds like airtight logic to me.”

Fig laughed, giving Adaine another shove and watching her teeter.

“The Ball,” Fabian hissed, “let’s get them while they’re distracted!”

Fabian charged at Fig and Gorgug. Riz found himself pulling at Fig, trying to yank her off Gorgug’s tall shoulders. She grabbed him back, struggling for purchase.

“Incoming!” Kristen hollered.

Riz felt a jolt as well over two-hundred pounds of teenage girls slammed into Gorgug’s side. He lost his grip on Fabian and crashed into the water.

Gasping, he surfaced, buoyed up by his vest. His friends bobbed around him. They were laughing, giggling, splashing each other in retaliation.

Gorgug and Fig and Adaine and Kristen and Fabian, all soaked and shiny in the light.

Riz mopped his wet curls out of his eyes and stared at them.

His friends. His friends, who’d survived death and trauma and heartache and still laughed like teenagers. His friends, who cared about him enough to _literally_ carry his weight on their shoulders. His friends, who took him swimsuit shopping and helped him pick one that felt good and didn’t make him feel stupid for being weird. His friends, who stuck with him after Kalvaxus, after the Nightmare King, after the Night Yorb. His friends, who loved him even without a case to solve.

His friends, who loved him.

Warmth thrummed in his chest.

Fabian looked back at him, wild and grinning. “The Ball! Help me!” 

“On it!” Riz dove beneath the water. He was going to find the pair of legs that belonged to Fabian’s assailant and he was going to wrap his body around them like a deadweight.

With water breathing at his disposal, he would be able to hang on all day long.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! please let me know what you thought <33
> 
> also, something i wanted to put in but couldn't find a place where it fit—before they left fantasy target, adaine bought aelwyn a bikini and a cover up. aelwyn rolled her eyes at the cover-up (but if she ended up wearing it the whole time, unselfconscious and _comfortable,_ no one teased her about it). 
> 
> ALSO, every pair of swim trunks mentioned in this fic are 100% real and there are at _least_ three different shark-on-surfboard prints. good things do exist! someone please stop me from buying them all


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